Tipping Point
by AngelOfDeath10
Summary: AU Okita/Chizuru, Immediately following WW2 everyone is trying to find their footing and a soldier finds himself playing protector to a girl he'd barely noticed, but maybe should have paid closer attention to. Sort of a reincarnation fic. T for swearing and Shinpachi.


Look, I don't know, ya'll. I was reading through stuff in this fandom after playing the Edo Blossoms game and I felt the pull. I seriously considered setting this in Japan after WW2 but there was some seriously depressing shiz happening there between the starvation, the bombings, the sudden Americanization of stuff, and it was too much to take on and keep this light. Making them American was somehow less jarring given the setting I was thinking.

That said, here is my contribution to Hakuoki fandom. Even if Okita isn't my personal favorite, he's my favorite for Chizuru as her character was built in the games. I tend to write neutral evil-ish guys so trying to get in the head of someone chaotic neutral is way different. Tried to stay in character but may not have succeeded.

Disclaimer: Yeah, if I owned the rights to the Hakuoki intellectual property then games would not have been rated M for violence. Hur hur.

* * *

Souji had come to hate his birthday. His twenty fourth trip around the sun had dawned on him in a foxhole in maybe France, with rain dripping down the collar of his uniform and a gun nearly empty of bullets clutched in a white knuckled hand. At the time he hadn't worried about being low on bullets, as he had been stripping supplies off the corpses of the men he killed and there was no shortage of those. The most recent of his kills had long cooled in that very foxhole and Souji had known he'd need to find a new hole before he was swimming with the stiff.

That, by any measure, had been a shitty birthday.

For some reason, though, today seemed worse. Hitler was dead, the Allies had won, and he was home safe, at least in body. It might have been in that same foxhole that he had gotten whooping cough, but for whatever reason there wasn't a lot of room on a battlefield for a soldier doubled over in spasms so he had been quarantined for so long the war was practically over by the time he was given the all clear from the military doctors. They hadn't had time for a young man with bronchitis, when other men were bring brought in legless or bullet ridden and Souji understood but that hadn't made his situation any less frustrating. What good was he in a hospital bed? It was an ignoble way to win the war.

Then there were the dreams.

Sleep was fitful and often punctuated by wakeful ab destroying coughing fits that left him breathless, but he was grateful for the coughs because they kept the dreams at bay. They were weird, twisted affairs in which instead of a gun he held a sword and—he didn't care what anyone said—killing a man with a sword was a much more visceral experience than using a gun. Over and over he slashed his way through men in his mind, the stench of blood and vomit so real that sometimes he woke up thinking he was a different person in a different time.

Kondo was dead in every reality, though, so who cared either way. Hell, maybe Souji was dead too and he didn't know it yet. He didn't bring it up because Hijikata would have thought he was saying something to wind him up again and his commanding officer had no sense of humor about anything. Bastard had a stick so far up his ass it probably was what kept his spine straight.

Once the unit came home they had scattered to the winds like they had never existed so Souji had hauled his corpse to some random city where he had been assured he could find work and rented a room. He was treated as a hero, but he knew he was a sanctioned murderer and so he built himself the prison he deserved. All his work was hard and manual, but people paid him well and since he had a good smile and knew how to crack a joke here and there he was always surrounded by men and women during the day. During the night, he sat in his self-appointed cell and thought about Europe and all the men he had killed. If he had been better at killing, would he have been able to save Kondo?

Kondo, his foster father, had been captured and killed so the likely answer was no, but Souji's heart whispered that that was a poor excuse and he could had done better. The dreams weren't as frequent back in the states as when he'd had whopping cough, but they still happened so on his off days he'd spend the nights drinking to quiet his mind from thoughts of Kondo and of a past he'd never lived. Lucky for him there was a pharmacy next to his shit apartment so he could pick up some aspirin and sundries when needed.

This morning, his birthday, when he had reached for that bottle of pills it was conspicuously empty and he had tossed it in a corner with a fed up groan. Hauling himself up from the mattress on the floor, Souji pulled on some pants and a shirt, and then struggled through locating a belt because of the pounding in his brain. He didn't worry about how the outfit looked, he owned the same five beige work shirts and the same three pairs of dark canvas pants. Uniforms had served him well in the military so he dressed like the battles continued on the construction sites he frequented.

Snatching up his wallet from the table by the door, he ran his hands through greasy hair a couple times in lieu of a brush and walked out into the already too hot summer morning. The sunlight invaded his brain even through his eyelids and he hissed his displeasure to no one in particular. Hangovers never got easier, even with all the practice he got at them.

A couple of long strides later he was trying to focus in on the labels on bottles while the rise and fall of conversation at the counter mixed with the soft sounds of a radio in the back. The shop girl always had the radio on, and Souji hated it because it made him think of what passed for home at one time: a fleeting moment when he'd had a dad in Kondo, a mom in Otsune, and a sister in Tama. His blood family could die in a ditch for all he cared, Kondo's family had been _real_. Then came the war—

Melancholy thoughts in his pounding brain died away as all his nerves fired at once to the sound of broken glass, and a feminine yelp. Rushing anywhere was a surefire way to get killed, his useless battlefield instincts told him, so Souji sauntered lazily towards the front with a bottle of aspirin in hand. He plastered a nonthreatening smile on his face, but it didn't reach his eyes. His view cleared to see the shop girl, her wrist captured in the grip of a tall blond man. The man's posture screamed ex-soldier, but weren't they all these days?

"Excuse me," Souji said in a sing song tone, "How much is this?"

The shop girl, eyes so wide he could see the whites all around, looked at him and froze. She was confused because he bought things here frequently enough, and he had barely spoken to her except to tease a blush out of her for fun while he paid. She well knew he didn't need a price check, but she was also in too much of a panic to understand he was coming to her rescue.

"Um, uh, I—"

The man sized up Souji with dark calculating eyes, and what he saw didn't seem to threaten him because he released the shop girl's wrist suddenly and faced Souji with a relaxed superior smile. As soon as she was released, the girl scurried over to the corner to get a broom mumbling excuses to herself that neither man really paid any attention to. Even though Souji was rumpled, dirty, reeking from a night of drinking, and smiling like an idiot he knew this man wasn't totally fooled. Truth was always in the eyes, you see, and killer recognized killer.

"They sell deodorant too," The man said by way of both insult and suggestion. "Chizuru, you should fetch him some once you finish cleaning up your little accident."

Souji smiled all the wider, "Aren't you going to help the lady? All that broken glass, she could hurt herself."

"She knows how to perform her duties." Quickly deciding with finality that Souji wasn't worth his time, the man glanced over at the shop girl and Souji didn't miss the covetousness in his voice. "I'll be back this evening. Be ready by 7, and no later." The shop girl hung her head, seemingly deciding that if she stayed perfectly still like a startled deer that perhaps this predator would forget she existed. Her lack of reaction was taken as acknowledgement, however, because the blond man projected triumph from every pore.

His task performed, the blond man regally swept past Souji making sure to check his shoulder painfully while Souji passively watched his enemy make his way out of the pharmacy. It was too early for this bullshit, and his headache returned in force now that the adrenaline was starting to fade.

A deep sustained sigh from the shop girl followed by a sharp gasp had Souji turning his attention back, and he saw her fussing with a bleeding finger. There were bandages aplenty here, so it wouldn't take her long to take care of her own careless mistake, but a stream of apologies flew out of her mouth in Souji's direction like a reflex.

"I'm so sorry, I'll wring you up in a moment, I just need to get a bandage on my hand and—where did I put that…" Her dark brown hair, normally pinned up, seemed to be coming loose in parts and it caught some of that hated sunlight to glow angelically. Fanciful thoughts, Souji laughed to himself, considering he didn't believe in angels. "Here it is!"

The shop girl was wrapping up her finger, then fretfully touching the material of her yellow sundress that had dark blotches of blood on it now. That was going to be hell to get out, and from the way her eyes narrowed at the discovery she knew that, but was trying not to become too annoyed at the work she had created for herself. Standing up straight she leveled a bright smile in Souji's direction, and unlike him her smile came from her whole body. It was like a cannon of cheer, and Souji's hungover state seemed all the more debauched in comparison. A weird feeling crept over him that he _knew_ this girl, not just as an acquiantance.

"You really saved me, just then, I can't thank you enough." Biting her lip, as if she were doing something secret she really shouldn't be doing, she pushed his purchase across the counter back at him. "I insist, this is on me, Mr. Okita."

The use of his name shouldn't have startled him, but it did. He wasn't some random stranger to this woman, and suddenly he felt shame at not remembering her name. That blond snake had called her Chizuru, hadn't he? It was too familiar but it was all he had, and Souji was good at working with what he had. "You should think twice about going on a date with that guy, Miss Chizuru. He looks like he doesn't know how to laugh. Like he'll take you dancing but then sit you in a corner."

"Mr. Kazama doesn't approve of dancing." Chizuru said quietly, her eyes sliding past Souji to focus on a memory in her mind that seemed to trouble her. "I've known him for years you see, but when everyone came back from the war things seemed… different. I can't imagine what you all are dealing with. Don't worry about me, whatever I can do to help I will."

Souji's fake smile faltered a moment. This dumb girl was going to martyr herself because some soldier was still fighting wars in his mind and decided she was his next target? It sounded idiotic to him, and he looked again at the girl in front of him, as if that veneer of innocence was going to drop any second to reveal the truth of her. She wasn't so young that she didn't understand at least some of the evils of the world.

"Where is he taking you, then?" It shouldn't have mattered, but it did. This girl's virtue was another battleground, and unlike other tasks in life up until this point, Souji at least knew how to fight. He was dead already, right? What was there to lose.

"A concert in the park nearby, dinner I think," She blushed, it sounded like a perfect date and if it weren't for the fact that the guy looked like he wanted to lock up Chizuru in a bedroom and throw away the key then Souji wouldn't have given a shit what they did on a Saturday night. "Truly, Mr. Okita, you don't need to worry about me. I'm a grown woman and I know how to take care of myself."

That remained to be seen, but seeing as she was running her family business without help and had been since her father had left for the war and never returned, Souji had to acknowledge that she wasn't exactly helpless in every portion of her life. The war had forced many different people to mature in ways they hadn't expected.

"You have a good day, Miss Chizuru." He upped the wattage of his smile and he saw her blush deepen. It was good to know he had that kind of effect even in the state he was in, stench and all. A handsome face forgave a multitude of other sins.

As he popped open the aspirin bottle in his dingy studio apartment, he contemplated why he felt so protective of a near stranger when he could give a damn about anyone including himself. He had an odd feeling, the more he contemplated her smiling face, that he had seen her somewhere else ages ago. The thought crossed his mind that maybe she had been in one of his fever dreams, but that was almost too ridiculous to consider. It smacked of religion, and Souji had lost faith in anything and anyone but Kondo a long time ago.

All the same, he looked around at his dirty clothes and thought to himself how he'd better clean up and go shopping if he was going to a concert tonight. On his birthday. The thought of leaving Chizuru entirely alone to this Kazama guy wasn't even something he considered as an option.

* * *

The last time Souji had been in a tie was also the last time he had been in his dress uniform. The green eyes staring back at him in the mirror were the same now as they had been months ago, but he felt years older. Clean shaven, new evening clothes pressed, auburn hair styled, he knew he was heading into the lion's den because he had never attended a social situation in which people weren't drawn to him. Charisma was a burden, but it also seemed to give him free reign to say and do what he wanted so long as he followed it with a smile so he couldn't hate it that much. Surely even shy Chizuru would want to talk to him when he looked like this, and he ran odds in his head how long he could play this game before her blond admirer challenged him to a fight.

It was going to be an interesting evening, at least.

It was too hot to wear the jacket so he settled for a vest with the suit pants and tie. Wing tips were at a high shine and he coldly turned his friendliest looking smile on and off in the mirror before rubbing at his jaw. He should have been bulkier with muscle given all the recent hard labor, but apparently he'd been drinking too much and eating too little because he still felt like that skinny kid who was chomping at the bit to fight Nazis overseas. Kondo had inspired him, and now all that was left of that ambition was a gaping hole where Souji's soul should have been.

Snapping up his hat, Souji strode out into the world with his usual confidence and headed in the direction of the park. There was only one concert in this part of town that wasn't taking place in a sweltering building, and he figured that's where he was going to find Chizuru and her overly eager suitor. Plenty of people were out and about, milling near the park as kids ran by. It was so wholesome that Souji didn't think he was needed because no one was getting ravished in a setting like this. The light was starting to fade, and as people were taking their seats he finally spotted Chizuru in a flower printed dress and white hat. Next to her, hand grasping her arm slightly above the elbow as if she needed to be steered, was the blond man—Kazama. The possessive familiarity of the man grated against Souji's nerves in a way he couldn't justify.

"Okita!" A hand clapped him between his shoulder blades with enough force that his hat was tossed from his head.

"Shinpachi!" He'd know that aggressively friendly gesture anywhere, and cursed how small the world was sometimes. It was a minor miracle they hadn't run into one another earlier given it was Shin who had given him the tip that there was work here for a man who wasn't afraid of a little sweat on his brow. He picked his hat up off the ground and dusted it. "Where's the wife? Or is Sanosuke with the kids tonight?"

"Ha, ha, you little asshole. Show some respect for your elders!" The punch Shin gave to Souji's arm was just on the side of painful to remind him the joke about Harada wasn't that funny to him. "Still a lone wolf? I would have thought you'd be here with a pretty girl. A soldier is only alone these days if he wants to be!"

Souji looked to the side and saw a petite blond woman beaming at the muscle-bound idiot. She waved politely.

"Yone, you have to meet my old friend Souji! We fought together in France and he was one of the most stone cold bastards on a battlefield I've ever seen. Him and Saito used to compare kill counts at the end of every day. Dunno how we made it through, but probably thanks to Souji being a damn berserker."

Souji rolled his eyes and gestured at the young woman. "Nice language there, Shin."

"Don't worry about Yone, her dad's the foreman at my job and she probably hears worse every day at the dinner table." Giving a grin that should have split Shin's face he gave a fond look at Yone, while the young woman in question looked back at him with a secret smile. Souji guessed Shin had found a kindred spirit, and he was happy for the guy. Life had been a party when they had been on leave for Shinpachi and Sanosuke because they definitely ascribed to the hedonistic ideal of living in the moment, and in a way it seemed like the party continued for the man. He didn't begrudge him happiness. If anyone could rise above all the darkness, it would be Shin.

"It's been nice, but I've got to find my date before she gets stolen out from under me." Souji winked for good measure to make it look like it was a big joke, but he really didn't want to lose sight of Chizuru and risk failing at his mission.

"Maybe we can all go out sometime!" Shinpachi called after Souji as he faded quickly into the crowd. "Don't be a stranger, Souji!"

Lost in the crowd for the moment, Souji reveled in anonymity. He could always give up, a voice in his mind whispered, but it was a suggestion something inside of him immediately rejected. Chizuru was _important_. It was damned scary that she was, too, because Souji couldn't say why. He'd encountered the damsel in distress type before, and the innocent type as well. Plenty of women had tried all sorts of tactics to catch his eye, but all Chizuru did was exist and here he was out in public making an ass of himself on the off chance that…

And there she was. Looking down at her lap where her hands were folded and seated at the right edge a few rows from the front. The band was going to start any moment now, and Souji realized he didn't have a plan. He sat a few rows back and, hat now worrying in his hands, he tried to come up with some plausible reason to get Chizuru away from Kazama. The band struck up a cord and then the music washed over the audience, the summer evening making time elongate. It was beautiful music, objectively, and the main pleasure Souji took from it was knowing that Shin was somewhere fidgeting because he hated fancy crap like this.

Souji was still at a loss for the better part of an hour until the intermission came and Chizuru's date stood up and took a package of cigarettes out of a pocket. If he was going for a smoke break, then here was Souji's moment to shine. Making sure to move down the middle aisle as Kazama wandered over to where others were smoking, Souji slid into the vacated seat so quickly it was still warm.

"Mr. Okita!" Chizuru's gasp was so delightfully surprised that Souji wished he could whisk her away somewhere private and see if he couldn't encourage more of that. But Chizuru wasn't that kind of girl, and Souji only pretended to be that kind of guy. She glanced up at him a few more times, clearly wanting to stare but unwilling to allow herself. He was glad he had put in the extra effort to look good tonight.

"Miss Chizuru. I trust your evening is going well?"

"… Mr. Kazama is very polite." She said carefully, clearly trying to find something positive to say. "Oh please, Mr. Okita, you have this look on your face that makes me worry you aren't going to let this go. I'll be _fine_."

He was here when he didn't need to be, didn't she see if he was going to let this go it would have been long before this point? She was a soft touch, and lucky for him he knew just the way to stop her protests. "For all you know, Miss Chizuru, I'm out here with the rest of these fine folk and celebrating my birthday. I'm still pretty new to town, as you know, so I don't have many friends to share the day with."

"Happy birthday, Mr. Okita! I wish I had known, earlier!" As he suspected that butter soft heart of hers melted and all her protests ceased. Of course roughly two minutes later when Kazama came back she would be a mass of twitching nerves next to Souji, but it was time enough to tease a bit before that happened.

"And what would you have done for me if you had known? Bake me a cake? I didn't realize we'd become that intimate, Miss Chizuru!"

As he hoped she was rendered near unintelligible while she tried to untangle a response to his flirting. "I'm sure I would… I mean I don't mind baking since I'm pretty good at… that's not to say I make everyone cakes so readily…" Finally looking up at his feline smile, Chizuru seemed to realize she was being teased at last and pushed at his arm in irritation. "Mr. Okita!" She scolded.

"I'll take that cake, if you're offering. Chocolate, no frosting on the outside, with a layer of raspberry jam in the middle. As long as it doesn't taste like Hitler's Secret Weapon I'll eat every bite." Chizuru smiled, not looking in his direction but listening all the same. God, was this what it was like to feel normal? Chizuru was some sort of miracle worker because being with her actually made him _forget_. It felt like he had taken a hit of a drug and would be chasing this high for the rest of his life. If this is how Kazama felt around her, then Souji understood that desire to own her now.

And there was the demon himself, bearing down on them with long strides and a grimace set in his jaw that told Souji he should probably brace for a punch sooner than later.

"You like making a nuisance of yourself, don't you, boy?" They were roughly the same age, and Souji forced his smile to hold even as his hackles rose to Kazama's insult. "Find somewhere else to be."

"Last I knew it was a free country, and I'm able to talk to a friend if I feel so inclined, isn't that right Miss Chizuru?"

"Don't bring her into it, she clearly doesn't need you polluting her mind or her air."

Souji really hated this guy. "Maybe you should let the lady talk for herself. Am I bothering you, Chizuru?" He leaned back and let his arm drape over the back of her chair. As soon as he brushed her back she jerked forward and brought her head up so that now she had no choice but to allow her anxious glance to skim from man to man.

"Mr. Okita and I were merely talking about his birthday…"

"Lies to draw you in, Chizuru. Trash like him will try anything they think will play to your better nature. He is attempting to use you. As I've told you, a woman living alone isn't proper in this day and age." He looked like he wanted to say more, but Souji's presence was putting a damper on things. "I can see this fool isn't going to leave us alone, so it's time we left. Come, Chizuru."

He addressed her like a dog! Souji fumed for her even if Chizuru had enough composure to simply go pale and clutch her hands into tiny fists rather than haul up and deck Kazama like he wished she would.

Looking Souji in the eyes, searching for something, Chizuru choked out a quiet, "No."

"Don't be silly," Kazama grasped her arm and hauled her out of the seat bodily which was one step too far for Souji who rose quickly and was in Kazama's face with all his killing intent laid bare. The smiling man Chizuru had been talking with was gone and in his place was the cold purposeful soldier. Kazama smiled and dropped Chizuru's arm. "Decided to come out and play, Okita?"

"Do I look like I'm playing?"

Kazama was showing the kind of restraint that normally Souji would respect, but right now they were enemies and the longer this was drawn out the more likely there would be police involved before they were done beating the shit out of one another. "No, I don't suppose you are. But I wonder why you'd bother for a woman you barely know."

_But I do know her! _ Illogically, his mind tried to provide him half remembered dream scraps where between the battle frenzy and burning in his lungs there might have been soft sighs and cool hands on his body. Too insane a concept to claim out loud, Souji fell back on a sense of chivalry he didn't possess. "Maybe I don't think people are things to use. Maybe I hate you for no reason. Does it really matter at this point?"

"No," Kazama smiled, anticipating a good fight and already glorying in it. "I don't suppose it does."

People were taking their seats and flowing around the two men as if they were rocks in a stream, and quite a few men were encouraging their dates that perhaps they should relocate to rows a little farther back. No one wanted to be in the middle of whatever was about to happen between Souji and Kazama. Chizuru seemed frozen to the spot, doing her best to mumble soothing words to anyone who would listen. Sadly for her, neither man was interested in anything but blood at this point.

"Hey guys, the concert is about to start up again, how about we take a little walk if you're not in the music mood!" Trust Shinpachi to walk in the middle of something like this with all the subtlety of a wrecking ball. He cracked the deadly mood by engendering confusion in Kazama. "I think there's a gazebo over there if you need me to hold your hats or something. I wouldn't mind a go at the winner, if you don't mind. It's been a while since I got to throw a good punch! Souji here can attest that you don't want me to catch you wrong. Did I crack your jaw that one time?"

Kazama seemed to register that this cheerful ball of muscle used to be part of Souji's unit and he could practically see the gears turning as he realized that while he probably had even odds against Souji alone that Souji and his friend together wasn't a winning proposition. Souji let the barest hint of a smile return to his face, and gave Kazama a mocking salute as the other man narrowed hateful eyes at them.

"This isn't over, Okita." Kazama turned on his heel and left, not even acknowledging Chizuru as he stalked away. Clearly she was Souji's spoils of war for the moment.

Shinpachi was grinning like the dope he was, clearly thinking he had saved the day through what probably appeared to him like some quick thinking. "Seemed like you were about to lose your girl, there. Little guys like you shouldn't go around picking fights without backup, ya know."

"Shin, I'm taller than you," Souji replied irritably, allowing his body to relax now that the immediate danger was passed. "And you didn't crack my jaw, you bruised it. Go back to your date before she figures out you're an oaf and leaves you to cry in your beer tonight."

Ruffling his hair again, fully to spite him, Shin nodded to Chizuru who was watching them with wide but thankfully no longer frightened eyes. "Ma'am. Maybe next time we'll get a proper introduction. Until then keep this one in line."

It looked like the band was going to start up again momentarily, and staying to listen to music for another half hour was the last thing he wanted after making so much commotion.

"I need to eat something." Souji announced and started to wander off. When he noticed Chizuru wasn't following he turned and spoke to her, making her jump a bit as she came back to reality. "Want to come with, Chizuru?"

She didn't respond, but she did rush in his direction so he figured that was good enough. The urge to put a hand around her shoulders was strong, but he managed to prevent himself from doing anything else embarrassing. Maybe, he acknowledged, he wasn't dead. If he were dead then Chizuru was a figment of his imagination, and he was pretty sure he wouldn't make up a woman so ridiculously passive. It was starting to piss him off. Didn't she feel drawn to him like he was to her?

* * *

"I don't let Mr. Kazama bully me! He's only a little… addled right now. When we were younger he used to joke about marrying me, but when he came back from the war a few months ago he was talking about it like I had made him a promise and, I don't know. I felt _bad_ for him." Chizuru took a bite of strawberry pie and Souji tried not to make a face. Too sweet for him. The pie and Chizuru both. "He grew up in a really strict household, you see, and he didn't have a lot of friends when his family moved here in high school. Our parents knew one another so I saw him here and there."

Souji swallowed the bite of steak he had been working on. It was tough, but he wanted the protein more than he wanted to wait for them to cook a second steak properly. "Let me guess, he said he'd marry you because no one else would? Something like that."

"That's all in the past now!" The telltale blush told him he had hit a homerun with that one. Prideful control freaks like Kazama were too easy to predict. "I told him I don't have time for marriage with everything the pharmacy needs. I feel like I'm married to that building these days. I hope wherever Father is, he's looking down on me and proud."

Souji immediately thought about Kondo, and the last few times they spoke. Kondo seemed to know his time was short because he kept saying all this nonsense philosophical bullshit and telling Souji he should settle down when he got home because family was everything. It was easy for Kondo to say because his family was great, while Souji's had abandoned him when the Great Depression had made it too hard to feed all those Okita mouths. The Kondo household hadn't been rich either, but they were a hell of a lot more generous of spirit. The money he now anonymously sent to Kondo's wife was probably less anonymous than he suspected. He had a lifetime to pay them for raising him when his own family wouldn't. Souji wondered if he was trying to buy forgiveness for failing to protect Kondo as well.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

Coming back to the present with a crash, Souji's cat ate the canary grin immediately spread across his face. He was the last person who should be trusted with a secret, but she couldn't have known that yet. "Of course you can." Souji said with the kind of sincerity that sometimes got him free fruit when he complimented the grocer's wife.

"At first the suppliers wouldn't work with me because they would only meet with my father, but then I started writing to them as Kaoru Yukimura, my twin brother."

Souji arched an eyebrow. "You have a brother?"

"No," Chizuru murmured half to herself. "I don't have any siblings at all."

"Don't worry, Chizuru," Souji said, taking a leisurely drink of water. "I won't tell anyone at all that you're committing fraud."

Her fork clattered onto the plate as her mind seemed to lose control of her body. "F-fraud?!" Her squeak was an octave higher than she meant it to come out and she clapped a hand to her mouth.

"That's what it is, isn't it? Assuming an alias to do business, when that person doesn't exist? Don't worry, I won't let anyone else get wind of your grift. Your secret is safe with me." He gave a wink and picked up her limp hand to pat it gently. She looked like she was about to melt into a puddle of shame. "Chin up, Chizuru, I like it when women are a little larcenous. Shows me you know how to get things done when your back's against the wall."

She was angry, he saw, as she snatched her hand back. Probably she had justified her actions to herself and then ignored the means by which she kept her suppliers happy since all she had to do was alter her signature a little and life went on. "I did what I had to do." She said, more for her own benefit than Souji's.

"Chizuru," He got her attention, suddenly more serious than he usually bothered to be. "I understand doing what you have to do to survive. Trust me."

The sigh she gave actually gave him shivers, as she followed it with a mournful, "I do trust you, Mr. Okita and that is precisely my problem. I know I shouldn't, but I can't seem to stop myself."

Digging into his steak, Souji flashed her his foxiest smile and took a big bite. They ate in silence for a while and he found himself staring at Chizuru more and more. She had seemed plain at first, forgettable in that way that implied she worked at it, but now that he had time to examine her he realized she faded into the background because in a busy world she was still. Souji's mind was always churning with thoughts, plans, one liners and angles when he wasn't simply getting his job done. Chizuru seemed to exist in a mental space that was free of clutter, and all that serenity made her simultaneously unremarkable and totally unique. He couldn't buy peace of mind like she seemed to project.

"Call me Souji." He said suddenly, and her brown eyes went molten in pleasure as she looked up from her half-eaten pie slice. She made him feel like a hero with that look, and all he did was offer his name.

"I have a garden," She said, searching his face for something and seemingly confused by her own words. "A victory garden, on the roof above my apartments. I live above the pharmacy, but you probably guessed that. It's mostly vegetables, but I did plant some flowers, too. I'd like to show it to you sometime. Perhaps cook you dinner."

Had he just been asked on a date? Souji narrowed his eyes in her direction, sly smile frozen on his face.

"To thank you, of course. For everything you've done for me today. And maybe we can have some cake. You know, for your birthday…" Whatever thread of bravery had gotten her to express that invitation seemed to run out and she was withdrawing into herself. He could imagine the recriminations and second thoughts she was already leveling at herself, and he couldn't leave her in that kind of suspense even as he knew any other person he would have loved to watch twist in the wind.

"Name the day and I'll be there. I haven't had a home cooked meal that wasn't eggs or a sandwich in, hell, _years_ probably." But as much as he resisted the urge he couldn't help but tease as well. "Inviting strange men to your home, and you a woman living alone. Maybe Kazama had a point. I look like a person of interest, after all."

Even though she blushed, her response was painfully sincere. "I think you're a man of integrity. You won't take advantage."

Her words made him ache. A man of integrity. Kondo had been described like that when he was a local police officer, and then again like that after he enlisted and was quickly promoted. Souji had never aspired to be like Kondo, it had been enough to be the devil that smoothed the way for men like Kondo to have integrity. Living in that moral grey zone had seemed natural for him—it still seemed natural for him—but Chizuru saw a white knight and he'd be damned if he disappointed her tonight or any other night.

"Just finish your pie," Souji mumbled, and he knew he was blushing himself.

* * *

It wasn't hard to convince Chizuru he needed to walk her home when they were practically neighbors. Now that he knew she lived above the pharmacy, he'd take more care to draw his shades during the day when he was wandering around half dressed. For all he knew he had practically flashed her more than once, but she was probably too polite to look in a neighbor's open window. That's the kind of person she was, and he said that to himself with all the certainty of knowing her on a first name basis for all of a day. It felt like longer, much longer.

The night had turned cool and she was rubbing her arms for warmth and swatting bugs away from her skin. He wished he'd worn a jacket so he could offer it to her, but instead he tried to keep up a lively stream of conversation about the various innocuous misadventures he'd had during the non-combat times with his unit. She had met Shinpachi so it was easy to start with him and Sanosuke, and somehow it had transitioned into his months long campaign to tell a joke that made Saito laugh. Chizuru listened to it all with shining eyes and a pealing laugh that caught him by surprise when it sprang from her lips into the night air.

She lapped up his stories like cream, and it almost felt like she had been there like a shadow in those days. He was getting good at ignoring the weird uncanny overlapping feelings of knowing her and not knowing her at all, not yet anyway. Mostly it was nice to be able to talk about his time in Europe and have it be a happy occasion, instead of another excuse to drink himself blind to the world.

Before he knew it, they were to her building, and Souji stood there as she unlocked the door to the staircase that led to her apartments. Weirdly, he didn't like the idea of her being alone up there, puttering around and doing whatever hobbies she had until she opened the store again as she did six days a week.

"Doing anything interesting for your day off tomorrow?"

"I thought I might bake a cake." She returned with a smile, "And I'll probably go see my friend Sen. She runs the salon a little ways away. I haven't had my hair done in forever, and she always finds time for me even without an appointment."

Souji literally couldn't help himself. "All that for me? I'll forgive you for your messy hair, Chizuru. Just make sure that cake tastes good. You could probably get me to do anything you wanted for a good meal and a soft bed these days."

Even in the dark he could guess at her flaming cheeks. "I'm not doing my hair for you, Mr. Okita! I'm doing it for myself."

Magnetically drawn, he took a step towards her and it felt good to see her tilt her head up at him, expression anxious in the faint light from the street lamps. "I told you to call me Souji."

"Souji," She repeated dutifully, and hands that had been wringing themselves in front of her dropped to her sides as she forced herself to relax. Rising up on her toes she kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Souji, for everything you did for me today."

If she thought that's all she could get away with given the charged air between them, she was gravely mistaken. Souji gathered her quickly into his arms and fiercely angled his mouth over hers. He wanted to swallow her whole, he was so greedy for her, but tonight he'd have to content himself with this. Not quite obscene, but certainly not chaste, he pressed into her and gloried in her warmth. Souji needed this; he needed her. Chizuru accepted him and it was as she was getting comfortable with the kiss and leaning back into him with similar enthusiasm that he realized it was up to him to stop this before it went somewhere he was reasonably sure she wasn't experienced enough to know to guard against.

"I'll see you tomorrow evening, Chizuru." He didn't have a joke for this moment.

Chizuru wasn't shivering from the cold any longer. "Tomorrow then… Souji."

She gave him more than one backward glance as she made her way into her home, and Souji waited until he saw a light go on upstairs. His own dingy, smelly apartment waited for him and since he hadn't gotten home early to open windows it was probably hot inside as well.

He'd skipped drinking tonight so he should have been worried about the dreams he'd probably have, but he found he was more excited than anything. Maybe they would be about Chizuru. Maybe they would pick up where that kiss had left off. Maybe they would be about the silly rooftop garden, where he would strip her under the cover of greenery and show her a thing or two about how serious he really was about her. He was already thinking about declaring his intentions (both honorable and dishonorable) to her, but then wondered if it would sound even crazier to her than her childhood friend coming home to do the same.

No, he needed to slow it down. He couldn't approach this like a battlefield and mow down opposition until only his will was left (as tempting a prospect as it was). Chizuru was too easily spooked, and he needed to play a longer game. She was open to him, he had to exercise some patience.

He was terrible at patience.

All the same, he had a feeling like maybe next birthday he wouldn't be waking up in bed alone and that thought tethered him to reality in a way he never would have bet on even a day ago. Maybe this was what Kondo had been getting at with all that talk of family. He could actually imagine giving it a shot, if it was with Chizuru. And Souji had always prided himself on being an excellent marksman.


End file.
